Post by Thomas Lucre on Jul 23, 2009 14:55:05 GMT -5
Um, zombies?
A legion of undead beasts whom formally patrolled these streets in a uniform fashion which was sore to the eyes, were now inexplicably wreaking havoc upon the populace. Streets were littered with fresh corpses, every wall was splattered with blood and entrails, and where fresh meat no longer stood, the zombies turned their outrage on all manner of inanimate objects.
Enter Thomas Lucre, a man of the nocturnal whom was starting to feel a little naked without a functioning wand. Just when he was getting used to getting by without one, too. He still had his charm after all, and to a vampire, it was often the difference between satiation and starvation. He had noticed that the streets were rather quiet, which was downright unnerving considering this time of year. Many of the shops were a mess, with all their valuables scattered and abandoned. It seemed even these shopkeeps witnessed something that could make them drop their propriety. All the blonde wanted to do was do some shopping. Even if he wasn't a wizard anymore, he was still capable of mixing potions (even though it wasn't his favorite subject as a human), and he had a mind to try to synthesize blood for him and his mate. Obviously it would be a shabby comparison to the real thing, but he wasn't really the type that liked to feed all that much. When he fed, it started to bring him back to his old self, and he found a wonderful love in his mate that wasn't so easily replaced or disregarded.
Setting that aside, this was all rather a bugaboo of a debacle. These streets had been utterly ransacked in a hurry. And, though he wasn't close enough to the epicenter of violence, the youthful vampire most assuredly could smell the heavy carnage in the still air. There had been a merciless butchering, the likes of which even the most deranged wizards out there were not capable of performing. Most practicioners of the dark arts relied on the cheap (and more importantly, clean) tricks found in their list of forbidden curses, and Lucre was pretty sure there was no magic that instigated this kind of feral violence. He had a guess though, and the most obvious sign was the fact that they weren't around, either.
Those ghastly inferi, of course.
Though there were plenty of things just lying around to be taken, it never settled well for Lucre to just snag things like some street rat. Even if there were no cashiers for him to pay, he could always do shopping for his materials elsewhere. On top of that, his shopping just wasn't important in light of all this.
Shrieks rang out down the streets, and Lucre jammed his hands in his dark black dress pants and followed the sounds, as they grew louder and louder. Darkness trickled from the corners of the light that faded at his back, and an array of sounds rang out as he heard that gnashing of teeth and meat being torn apart. A few streets down, some explosions could be heard, with plumes illuminating the night sky. Lucre looked around, and saw that he was now surrounded by these rotting monsters, now drunk with blood lust. And, they too had their attention grabbed by the handsome vampire. One of them hobbled up to him, falshion covered in blood and riddled with knicks. It towered over him, its breath wreaking of dust and fluids. As it raised its sword to bring down upon him, Lucre smirked. These things may not have stamina to concern themselves with, but they were dealing with something much quicker.
Lucre's leg shot up, his knee nearly touching his shoulder, as his foot crashed into the creature's jaw, sending him flying almost vertically. Apparently, this one could hit a lot harder, too. He looked around with his scouring black eyes, trying to size up all the creatures now working themselves into a rage at this new meal.
A legion of undead beasts whom formally patrolled these streets in a uniform fashion which was sore to the eyes, were now inexplicably wreaking havoc upon the populace. Streets were littered with fresh corpses, every wall was splattered with blood and entrails, and where fresh meat no longer stood, the zombies turned their outrage on all manner of inanimate objects.
Enter Thomas Lucre, a man of the nocturnal whom was starting to feel a little naked without a functioning wand. Just when he was getting used to getting by without one, too. He still had his charm after all, and to a vampire, it was often the difference between satiation and starvation. He had noticed that the streets were rather quiet, which was downright unnerving considering this time of year. Many of the shops were a mess, with all their valuables scattered and abandoned. It seemed even these shopkeeps witnessed something that could make them drop their propriety. All the blonde wanted to do was do some shopping. Even if he wasn't a wizard anymore, he was still capable of mixing potions (even though it wasn't his favorite subject as a human), and he had a mind to try to synthesize blood for him and his mate. Obviously it would be a shabby comparison to the real thing, but he wasn't really the type that liked to feed all that much. When he fed, it started to bring him back to his old self, and he found a wonderful love in his mate that wasn't so easily replaced or disregarded.
Setting that aside, this was all rather a bugaboo of a debacle. These streets had been utterly ransacked in a hurry. And, though he wasn't close enough to the epicenter of violence, the youthful vampire most assuredly could smell the heavy carnage in the still air. There had been a merciless butchering, the likes of which even the most deranged wizards out there were not capable of performing. Most practicioners of the dark arts relied on the cheap (and more importantly, clean) tricks found in their list of forbidden curses, and Lucre was pretty sure there was no magic that instigated this kind of feral violence. He had a guess though, and the most obvious sign was the fact that they weren't around, either.
Those ghastly inferi, of course.
Though there were plenty of things just lying around to be taken, it never settled well for Lucre to just snag things like some street rat. Even if there were no cashiers for him to pay, he could always do shopping for his materials elsewhere. On top of that, his shopping just wasn't important in light of all this.
Shrieks rang out down the streets, and Lucre jammed his hands in his dark black dress pants and followed the sounds, as they grew louder and louder. Darkness trickled from the corners of the light that faded at his back, and an array of sounds rang out as he heard that gnashing of teeth and meat being torn apart. A few streets down, some explosions could be heard, with plumes illuminating the night sky. Lucre looked around, and saw that he was now surrounded by these rotting monsters, now drunk with blood lust. And, they too had their attention grabbed by the handsome vampire. One of them hobbled up to him, falshion covered in blood and riddled with knicks. It towered over him, its breath wreaking of dust and fluids. As it raised its sword to bring down upon him, Lucre smirked. These things may not have stamina to concern themselves with, but they were dealing with something much quicker.
Lucre's leg shot up, his knee nearly touching his shoulder, as his foot crashed into the creature's jaw, sending him flying almost vertically. Apparently, this one could hit a lot harder, too. He looked around with his scouring black eyes, trying to size up all the creatures now working themselves into a rage at this new meal.